


Queen, Bishops and Pawns

by WotanAnubis



Category: Expeditions: Viking (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Paganism, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 18:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13013316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WotanAnubis/pseuds/WotanAnubis
Summary: In which the pagan Queen of Northumbria and Pictavia starts taking steps to consolidate her grip on her realm.





	Queen, Bishops and Pawns

**Author's Note:**

> This is story about a pagan ruler's adversarial relationship with Christianity. I'm sure that's not going to be controversial in any way.

The problem was Dun Phris. No, that was unfair. Dun Phris was _a_ problem, but it wasn't _the_ problem. _The_ problem was Christianity.

Yrr, Thegn of Skjern and Jelling, Jarl of Orkneyjar, Queen of Northumbria and Pictavia, liked to think she was a fair enough ruler. The taxes she levied weren't onerous and most of those resources went back into improving her domain. The roads were kept safe, the young people weren't thrown away in pointless wars and, by and large, everyone was free to live their lives. Provided they didn't cause too much trouble.

Christianity was trouble. The god of the Christians was so hopelessly insecure he insisted he was the only one. The notion was completely absurd to Yrr. One needed only to watch a wolf tear into a lamb to know the world wasn't run according to the harmonious plan of one single benevolent god. But the god of the Christians insisted he was the only one anyway and his priests did the same.

The smarter of the Christian priests kept their heads down and just told their followers that the rule of these Danish pagans were but a test of faith that would pass and everybody should just hold on strongly and weather the storm. Yrr was fine with them. Bit insulted that they characterised her rule as somehow a horrendous, spiritual trial, but basically fine.

And then there were the zealots. They were not smart. They did not keep their heads down. They raved and ranted about the evil of Yrr's reign, how their god was going to burn and torture her forever and how it was the great duty of all good Christian people to rise up in revolt and overthrow her.

Yrr had held off the Skullcleaver. Had gathered an army strong enough to overthrow two kingdoms. A bunch of peasants waving improvised weapons about were no match for her forces, no matter how much their leading priests were frothing at the mouth with piety. The rebellion was always defeated, the church pulled down and the offending priest put to the sword.

Which led back to Dun Phris. By now most of the zealots had figured out that their wooden cross didn't measure up to cold steel. And they also knew Yrr did not have much patience with people trying to overthrow her. They could have just stopped inciting religious revolts, but they were zealots, so that obviously wasn't an option.

But they could go to Dun Phris. Dun Phris was independent. It wasn't subject to Yrr's rule. It was surrounded by it, but not subject to it. Yrr had _guaranteed_ its independence and she wasn't the kind of woman to just break her word.

So the priests flocked to the walls of Dun Phris where they could continue preaching Yrr's overthrow in safety. Loudly and constantly. Getting the hotheads even hotter. Making people believe that because their god was on their side, they would definitely prevail and defeat Yrr and her troops. Despite all past evidence to the contrary.

Which was why Aiblinn, the hotheaded leader of Dun Phris, now stood uncomfortably before Yrr's throne. She was out of her depth and she knew it. She was a strong woman and she really believed in her town's independence, but she could feel the water closing over her head.

Yrr sat on her throne, surrounded by her hird. Her great hall was filled with warriors, mostly Norse, but she'd attracted some Picts and Northumbrians as well. Røskva sat near the firepit, seemingly lost in a ritual that produced strange-smelling smoke. It might have even been a real ritual, but it was also possible she was just trying to disconcert Christian visitors. Maybe both.

Aiblinn cleared her throat, her eyes sweeping across Yrr and her people.

"There've been... rumblings," she began.

"There always are," said Yrr.

Aiblinn nodded miserably. There always were.

"Tell me," Yrr said, "have they lain their hands on any real weapons yet?"

"Not yet," said Aiblinn. "But people can do a lot of damage with a pitchfork."

"True enough," said Yrr, who preferred swords herself.

Aiblinn licked her lips. "There's, uhm... I hear rumors that..."

"Yes?" Yrr prompted.

A raven flew down from the rafters and perched on the back of Yrr's throne. It seemed to focus one of its black eyes on Aiblinn.

"Some of the priests are talking about... recruiting," Aiblinn said. "Outside the walls. Gather an army of the faithful."

Laughter rippled through the hall. Yrr smiled on her throne. Aiblinn stared at the ground, red with... something. Embarrassment. Anger, perhaps.

"And I take it some of those priests intend to do their recruiting themselves," said Yrr. "After all, they speak with the voice of their god, don't they? They'll be more successful than just some random townsfolk."

"That's right," said Aiblinn, clearly not happy about any of this.

"And you know where they're going and when," Yrr stated.

"Yes," Aiblinn replied coldly.

"You're willing to share this information with me?"

Aiblinn nodded mutely.

"Good," said Yrr. "Asleifr, please show Aiblinn to her guest room. Make sure her needs are met. We'll talk more about this later."

Asleifr obviously wasn't pleased about being given servant's orders, but his only protest was a brief, sour look. Quietly, he guided Aiblinn out of the hall. She followed him just as quietly.

Yrr rose from her throne. Around her people started chatting as the official business seemed to be done for the day. The red-haired queen walked towards the firepit where Røskva was still staring intently at the fire. The flickering flames were tinged blue.

"See the future in there?" Yrr said jokingly.

"No," Røskva replied in all seriousness.

Yrr reached out to the young witch and curled some of her black hair around her fingers. It was matted and greasy, but Yrr simply enjoyed feeling it. 

"Well, let me guess the future then," Yrr said. "I'll send out the troops, they'll find those priests, who'll stupidly resist and end up dead. More Christian blood spilled by me."

"That bothers you?" Røskva asked.

Yrr shrugged. "It looks bad. Slaughtering my subjects is not the sort of thing I'm supposed to do. I feel sorry for Aiblinn, though."

Røskva tossed a handful of herbs onto the fire. The flames seemed almost greenish now. "She doesn't have a choice. She can betray her fellow Christians or she can wait until you're fed up and take Dun Phris anyway."

"Oh?" said Yrr. "You think I'll just break my word?"

"I think your patience isn't infinite."

The raven leapt up from Yrr's throne and settled on her shoulder. Yrr still wasn't sure when the bird had managed to intrude into her hall, but she was happy enough to keep it around. It made for an impressive pet. And it unsettled people, which was nice.

"You're probably right," said Yrr. "Still, I'm willing to play the long game and see how it works out."

"You have a plan, then?" Røskva asked.

"Oh yes." Yrr smiled and the strange fire burned in her eyes. "A terrible plan."

* * * * *

The day was bright and sunny, which was perfect for the grand opening of Dun Phris' latest place of worship. It had taken months to build and cost a lot, but Yrr had spent generously on this gesture of enduring friendship between Dun Phris and the Danelaw.

The round structure stood next to the church. Dun Phris had a strangely mixed history and in honor of that history Yrr had commissioned a temple to the so-called old gods of Picts. After all, while Christianity had intruded into large parts of Pictavia, the old faith wasn't gone entirely just yet and it deserved to be celebrated as well, didn't it?

Guards had been posted all around the construction site as it had been built. The priests had spat their venom as usual, but people hadn't listened very hard. Dun Phris' Pictish population had felt uneasy about the whole thing. Some were devout Christian, sure, but quite a few couldn't help but be flattered about the recognition Yrr gave their cultural heritage. And some, no doubt, were quietly happy that the faith they'd held onto in their hearts might perhaps be blooming again.

"What do you think?" Yrr asked her companion pleasantly.

Myrddin, the man who until a few years back had thought himself the last druid, looked at the brand new temple to his old gods. His usual grumpiness seemed to be winning out over his cautious optimism, but only just.

"It's just a building," he said. "One should go and find the gods. They don't just show up where you want them to."

"Could be," said Yrr. In her experience, the gods showed up all the time, whether anyone wanted them to or not. "Still, people should have a place to express their devotion, shouldn't they?"

"Hmm," said Myrddin, eyeing the armed men and woman surrounding the building. "And you think people will be able to express that devotion in peace, do you?"

"In time," said Yrr. "People adjust."

"What do you hope to accomplish with this monstrosity, hmm?" Myrddin asked. "Really?"

Yrr hesitated. She'd just been about to say that the new temple was just a demonstration of her friendship, but she knew that wouldn't fly with the old man. Besides, he could be one of her closest allies, whether he liked it or not, so perhaps he deserved a bit of honesty.

"I'm looking to weaken Christianity around here," Yrr admitted. "This is just the first step."

"I should have guessed," said Myrddin. "When the Christians burn down this temple you'll have your excuse to send in your army and slaughter the priests, I take it? Maybe even take this place for yourself?"

Yrr smiled. "I see there's no fooling you. Of course, that plan of mine could still be foiled."

"Oh?"

"Well, I mean, the Christians might not burn the place down and then where would I be?" said Yrr. "Anyway, shall we head inside?"

* * * * *

Yrr was impressed, though not surprised, when she walked into the temple's main hall. She'd spent a lot of money on this place, so it had better well be impressive.

Like the temple itself, it was round. Statues of the Pictish gods lined the wall - Daghda and Lugh and the Morrigan and all those others Yrr didn't know the name of. The statues were expertly carved from wood and loomed over the people in the hall, nearly as tall as the ceiling.

Closer to the center stood a stone circle. A bit of a pale imitation of those still dotting Pictavia, but solid nonetheless. They'd been carved with images from the stories of the old gods of the Picts. Yrr didn't know the stories, but the images were beautiful even without that knowledge.

One of the stones, in Pictish script and Danish runes, proclaimed that Yrr had had this temple built.

Yrr let her gaze wander across the gathered crowd. Most of them, to judge by the tattoos, were Picts. There were a few Northumbrians as well, looking around fearfully as though they were doing something terrible and forbidden just by being here. Cillian strutted around, beaming with pride and joy, barely able to keep from latching onto anyone who even glanced at one of the stones or statues and telling them all about his gods.

And there was Grainne. Yrr was shocked to see her in the crowd, but that tattooed face was hard to miss. Come down all the way from Perth, just for this place? But then, Yrr realised, why shouldn't she have come? Somehow, Grainne believed in her pagan gods as much as she did in her Christian god. But while she could go to a church anywhere she pleased, there weren't really many places she could practise the other half of her faith.

"It'll do," said Myrddin.

"What? Oh. Yes," said Yrr. For a moment, she'd forgotten he was there. "Well, I'm glad you approve."

"I wouldn't go that far," said Myrddin. "But... this place will help, I think. To keep the faith alive."

"More than just alive, I hope," said Yrr.

Myrddin sighed. "I told you once the druids used to rule these lands before the Romans came? Now here I am, reduced first to Caustantin's pawn and now yours. Even so, I am... grateful. No matter your reasons."

"Thank you," Yrr said.

Myrddin nodded once and walked off towards his apprentice. They started talking immediately and Yrr wondered what they were planning. Cillian was probably excited about the rituals they were going to perform. Myrddin might have been more interested in figuring out the escape routes from Dun Phris.

Yrr was about to turn and leave when Grainne walked up to her. Her face was hard, but her eyes were conflicted.

"Grainne," Yrr said.

"Queen Yrr," Grainne said with a nod. "I have to thank you for building this place."

Yrr could see how much the words cost Grainne. The woman had never exactly forgiven Yrr for overthrowing her king and claiming his kingdom for herself, and why should she? Thanking her for anything must have been difficult.

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Yrr said. "I hope you'll find the time to worship your gods here."

"I might," said Grainne. "But Dun Phris... yes, there are Picts here, but a lot of Northumbrians as well. I think Perth would be a better place to have a temple like this."

Yrr smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * * * *

Yrr found Røskva outside the new temple. She'd gone with Yrr to Dun Phris, because she went where Yrr went, but hadn't gone inside. Yrr had her suspicions as to why, but hadn't really been inclined to press the issue.

"Ready to head home?" Yrr asked. "I think I'm about done here."

"It's been a very strange day," said Røskva. "I've been watching the crowds."

"Oh yes? Seen anything interesting?"

Røskva grinned. "I was keeping an eye out for an old, one-eyed wanderer in a grey cloak and floppy hat. But he didn't show. A lot of other people have walked past this place, though. Multiple times, even."

"Did any of them go in?" Yrr said.

"Some. Curious children, mostly. The rest were too afraid."

"It'll get better in time, I'm sure," said Yrr. "Provided nothing unfortunate happens."

"I'm sure you'll take care of it," Røskva said. "But I want to know something. When do you intend to start building temples to the Æsir?"

Yrr smiled. "I thought you couldn't see the future?"

"No," the witch replied. "But I know you."


End file.
